Camille Bordey: Life After Saint Marie
by BadgerLeopard
Summary: Something's not right in Paris. Policemen are being killed and a gang known as the Black Ring are causing chaos. Camille Bordey soon finds herself immersed in the chaos and must try and stop an evil maniac from committing a deadly crime...
1. Episode 1 - The Job

**The Job**

**Featuring Camille Bordey**

Commissioner Martin Chieffre was about to speak. A journalist had asked how long the investigation into the murder of Henry West would take and he had thought of his answer.  
"We believe that this enquiry will last as long as we need." he answered, "We are currently examining evidence regarding the enquiry and, as we have a new officer about to join the team, we are planning various ways in which to find the killer. Does that answer your question?"  
"Yes, it does. But can you give any information surrounding the rumours about the Black Ring?"  
The Black Ring was a criminal gang that had been committing crimes in Paris for the last few months. Everyone had been made afraid by the gang and so a new officer had been brought in from Saint Marie to help deal with the gang.

Before the Commissioner could reply, the doors opened and three hooded figures emerged, firing pistols at the Police desk. Martin collapsed to the floor, blood dribbling out from his corpse, whilst the other officers hastily retreated from the scene.  
The Black Ring were at work once again.

Camille Bordey had arrived in Paris. It had seemed like a few seconds ago she had waved goodbye to her mother and her former life on Saint Marie, yet it was actually hours since she had stepped onto the boat at Saint Marie port.  
"Are you Camille Bordey?" interrupted someone from behind her, cutting off her thoughts.  
"Yes, that's me. Are you supposed to escort me to the Police Station?" she asked him, now seeing who had interrupted her: a short English man wearing a black suit and tie.  
"I was, but things have changed. I'll take you to your hotel and update you on what's happened on the way. Come on, the Audi's this way."

The stranger led her to a small Audi Quattro which was parked in a nearby multi-storey car park and got into the driving seat. Camille sat herself down in the passenger seat and strapped herself in, a few seconds before the car reversed out and drove away.  
"What happened then?" she asked him as they drove through the busy streets.  
"The commissioner got assassinated at a conference recently, so we've all be running." he explained, "The Black Ring has been assassinating police officers ever since, meaning that we've relocated to a new base."  
"And where's that?"  
"You'll see."

The Quattro sped down the busy road, coming to a stop near a set of traffic lights. However, three armed men were stood by the traffic lights, pistols in their hands. They noticed that two police officers were sat in the car and began to fire at the Quattro, denting the glass and the bodywork. Luckily, the lights soon turned green and the stranger accelerated rapidly, hitting one of the attackers and hurling him down the road.  
"They must be the Black Ring then," Camille concluded, as the car sped away, "why do they have such a grudge against the police?"  
"They're like all gangs: they want to rule the city and they think the authorities should be wiped out."  
Bullets peppered the rear window, as the attackers were now right behind them, riding motorcycles. The car swerved down a nearby alleyway, but the attackers still managed to keep up with them.  
And unfortunately, there was a dead end ahead. The grey little Quattro stopped a few metres from the dead end, reversed rapidly back up the street, throwing all of the bikers onto the chaotic main road.  
Camille and the stranger had escaped.

Camille emerged from the Quattro outside a dingy-looking hotel which was down a horrid looking alley.  
"Is this where I'm going to be staying?" she protested, dragging her luggage out of the boot.  
"Yep. Now do you want me to show you to your room or will you find your own way round?"  
"I've been almost killed and engaged in a car chase in the first hour of me arriving here, so preferably yes. And while you're at it, please tell me your name."  
"Rhodes. Wallace Rhodes."

The room wasn't that bad after all. There was a small bed, a sink, a medium-sized television and a rather horrid pair of curtains, as well as a desk and a mirror.  
"I think you'd better show me to where we're based now." Camille said, leaving her luggage by her bed and walking out of the room.  
"Don't you need to unpack?" Wallace asked her.  
"Wallace, I'd rather get to work. I've come a long way for this job and I don't want to have to deal with men like you. Now come on."

They got back into the scarred Audi and sped off.  
"How long have the Black Ring been around then?" she quizzed Wallace, as they passed the Arc De Triomphe.  
"Six months. They started off as a group of jewel thieves, but when the police began deploying defensive measures, their actions got worse. Heists turned to murders, murders turned to slaughter. We couldn't cope. Your predecessor, Justin Honor, worked hard on a plan to end the Black Ring, but they found out and killed him."  
"So who's in charge now?"  
"Someone who used to work on Saint Marie, a very long time ago."

After half an hour's drive, the battered little road car parked in a nearby tunnel. Ahead of them were two impressively large grey metal doors, which Wallace hurled open.  
"Welcome to the new Paris Police." he welcomed her, walking onwards.

Inside, several dozen officers were sat around a table model of Paris whilst a sharply dressed old man was talking to them. Behind the crowd, there was a large office where a middle-aged woman sat behind a desk, working at a computer. Wallace knocked at the door of the office and the woman beckoned the pair of them in.  
"Camille Bordey, meet Alexa Sanchez, your new boss." Wallace introduced, shortly before leaving the pair of them to bond.  
"So you worked on Saint Marie?" Alexa wondered, smiling, "I did as well. A lot longer before you though."  
"When were you on Saint Marie?" Camille asked her.  
"Around the nineteen-nineties. But then I decided to take a job here. And look where that's got me."  
Camille smiled, understanding her humour.  
"What do you want me to do then?"  
"You came here for an undercover job but I want you to be a lone wolf. A lone warrior."  
"I'm not going to be a soldier."  
Alexa sighed.  
"Camille, we are at our most vulnerable. We need to take precautions."  
"Do you have any leads?"  
"Only one."  
She turned her computer round to face Camille: it had an advert for a nightclub called "The Seven Sisters" on it, in neon writing and with the illustration of a drawing of a clifftop on it.  
"We believe that there will be an attack on the Seven Sisters nightclub tonight and so I want you to go to that nightclub. That's all for now." Alexa explained, dismissing Camille.

Camille eventually found the car that she would be temporarily be using for her mission tonight: it was a green Jaguar F-Type. She had also been given two pistols and a machine gun, just in case it got messy. And it probably would get messy.  
"Camille," called Wallace, "can I just give you some advice before you go?"  
"It depends. What's the advice?"  
"Don't trust anyone. It could mean life or death out there if you trust the wrong person."  
She nodded, got into the car and sped off into the distance.

At the Seven Sisters, guests had begun to pile into the main room, where a mixture of purple and blue lights were shining, giving the room an eerie, science fiction-like atmosphere.  
Camille entered the room rather confidently, having stopped to change in her hotel room on the way: she was now wearing a smart blue dress and red high heels. She had also applied make-up to herself, just to make her blend in in her new suave environment.  
"A drink, madame?" offered a nearby male, dressed in similar colours to her. Or was that just the lighting playing tricks on her?  
"No thanks. I'll get one myself." she answered, remembering how tragically her last relationship had ended. But Humphrey had been such a wonderful man.

A few hours later, Camille was partying with a group of locals when a nearby wall exploded with a loud thud, debris scattering all over the room and the four clubbers were thrown backwards. Seven hooded figures emerged into the club, wielding powerful sub-machine guns and firing at civilians.  
Camille, knowing how to fire a gun thanks to her old boss Richard Poole, took out her two pistols and fired at the hooded figures, successfully hitting a few of them before diving behind the bar. Returning fire from the Black Ring shattered the bottles opposite her, which gave her an idea.  
"If you don't have a gun," she yelled, "get out now!"  
She could only allow ten seconds.

Ten seconds passed shortly afterwards, allowing her to get on with her plan: in a matter of seconds, she took out a lighter that she had found in her hotel room and pulled a bottle of tequila down from the bar. She then stood up, smashed the bottle of tequila and flicked the lighter into life, before hurling it at the spilt alcohol.  
This made exactly what she wanted to happen happen: the alcohol was engulfed in flame instantly. The fire grew slowly, turning every smashed bottle and dropped glass of spirits and cocktails into a flame.  
Camille now needed to think of a way to survive this and thankfully she had an idea: she decided to hurl every bottle and tray from a nearby fridge, which had been turned off as soon as the hole had been blown in the wall, and clamber into it, shutting the door behind her.  
All she needed to do now was wait it out and hope that the fire wouldn't engulf her.

The fire was stopped quickly. And luckily for Camille, the fridge wasn't affected.  
"Nicely done." commented Alexa, who was sat next to Camille. They were both now on the street outside the club, watching the police, or what was left of it, pick through the wreckage.  
"Thank you. Was the car unaffected?"  
"No."  
"And did anyone escape?"  
"Not as far as we know, no. But I'll be in touch when we get any traces. For now you should rest. I'll see you in the morning."  
Alexa started to walk off back to her Lexus.  
"I think I might like this job you know." Camille called to her.  
"That's good."  
And then Alexa sped off into the distance, leaving Camille standing on the street outside.

**THE END**


	2. Episode 2 - The Scarred Man

**The Scarred Man**

**Featuring Camille Bordey and Alexa Sanchez**

X. That was his name. A single letter: that just showed how indescribable he was. Because currently he was being ushered through the Paris Police headquarters, bound by handcuffs and with two armed guards by his side. And yet he still had a smile on his face. The grazed, scarred lips of the insane man had somehow managed to contort themselves into an expression of happiness, as he was escorted through the domain of his enemy.  
That just showed how indescribable he was.

Camille Bordey was being shot at whilst this was happening. She had been assigned to infiltrate a faction of the Black Ring, what was left of it anyway, and somehow the leaders of the Scherzo Men had found out her true identity. So there she was, hiding inside a metal cabinet, remembering how she had to hide in a fridge only a few days before.  
"Come out, Ms Bordey," one of the leaders, a tough muscular man called Derek Ferguson, called out, "come out and tell us everything that we need to know."  
Through a small gap in the cabinet she could see Derek, surrounded by armed thugs, prowling the corridors of the office that they had taken over like large lions.  
She knew that the cabinet wasn't bulletproof, but she could shoot through the gap. She could hit one of them.  
Her phone rang. It was Alexa, presumably wanting her to do something. Obviously Camille hung up on her: she did not need a phone call right now.  
"Check the cabinet!" Ferguson ordered one of the thugs and, soon enough, the metal doors swung open to reveal Camille, pointing two pistols at the three of them. Within three seconds she fired at all three of them, making them collapse onto the floor.  
She then casually walked away, as if nothing had ever happened.

When she eventually returned to the Paris Police headquarters, Camille unusually noticed that Alexa wasn't in her office. This was not like her boss at all. She then noticed a note taped to the desk which read "INTERROGATION ROOM".  
Now she understood why Alexa had called her.

In the interrogation room, Alexa had already begun questioning X when Camille knocked at the door.  
"Camille, this is why I called you in." Alexa explained, indicating the mad, scarred individual sat opposite to the two police officers, "This man is simply known as X."  
"X? Isn't that a little..."  
"Enigmatic? Well he's that sort of person. He's been convicted for murder, arson, attempted homicide and theft. X has also been behind several terrorist incidents that have taken place in Paris during the last year."  
"Good to see that you have done your research." X commented, "I always like those who know me well."  
"We'll be the ones who'll do the talking around here." Camille firmly responded, letting Alexa to continue questioning him.

Meanwhile, three men were being led to a prison cell elsewhere in the station. They had been arrested earlier that day for stealing from a jewel store in Paris. Their background histories had not been fully documented, but most would find the fact that three criminals being arrested on the same day as an interrogation into the mind of X suspicious. What happened next would prove them right.  
One of the men leapt backwards and hit one of the guards in the face. He then took out a knife and stabbed the other two guards. Another criminal took out a gun and shot the stunned guard, before the three convicts made their way to where their boss was.  
They were going to help X escape.

"You were brought in here because you murdered Julie Abbott." Alexa said, placing images of Julie's body on the table, "Do you wish to make a statement in your defence?"  
"Why would I do that?" X answered sinisterly, "If I'm guilty of it, then I should be arrested."  
"It's funny, X. Most people would want to get away with murder. But you don't."  
"That's because I want to be imprisoned."  
"And why's that?"  
And at that exact moment, the door fell open and three henchmen stormed in, guns blazing. They knocked out Camille and Alexa and took X with them.

Half an hour later, Camille woke up. She found that Alexa was still asleep but that a TV in the corner of the room showed X in the main area of the Paris Police headquarters, pointing a machine gun at the head of one of the officers.  
She took one look at Alexa and ran out to the area, pistol in hand.  
She entered the hall, aiming her pistol at the head of X.  
"Put the gun down now!" she ordered, ready to fire.  
"Camille Bordey, the woman who lost her friend," he answered, "and the woman who took out an entire gang with a bottle of tequila. Humphrey wouldn't want to see you like this."  
"How do you know about Humphrey?"  
"I've done my research. The happy little team on Saint Marie, solving silly little murders. But I've organised a tidal wave that will crash through their lives. You'll see. It will be spectacular."  
X and his subordinates then ran into the garage and got into a Lexus RS, shortly before driving off.

Once Alexa had reawoken, she had asked Camille to be debriefed in her office.  
"You let X escape?" Alexa said, shocked.  
"I had no other choice. It was either that or let him kill everyone in the office. He would have probably found some way of escaping anyway."  
"I understand. But just be aware that he may be back. People like him don't hide."  
"Yes. He said that he was planning something big. And I think that that's going to happen sooner or later."

**THE END**


	3. Episode 3 - Friends in the Fire

**Friends in the Fire**

**Featuring Camille Bordey and Fidel Best**

_Reykjavik, Iceland._

Ilya Hensonsdottir sat down at a table and sipped at her glass of red wine. She felt that she deserved this, especially after fufilling her mission and assassinating Eddie Brock, a technology expert and billionaire who had his own private island.  
"May I join you?" asked a tall, smartly dressed young man who was stood just next to her.  
"Sure." she answered, her Icelandic accent sounding clearly.  
The stranger sat down at the table and placed one of his hands on a nearby glass: he took out a pistol and held it underneath the table, aimed at Ilya.  
"My employee wishes to congratulate you for what you did today," he explained, "but he would like to know the location of Eddie Brock's island."  
"That information is classified, no matter who your employer is."  
"I see."  
The gun clicked: it was ready to fire.  
"What is your employer's name?"  
"That information is classified."  
The stranger fired and walked away, leaving the dead body.

_Madrid, Spain._

Julia Trent was walking back to her SUV, black suitcase in hand, when she noticed a smartly dressed stranger behind her. She turned round and found that he was pointing a gun at her.  
"Give me the suitcase," he demanded, "or I shoot."  
"This suitcase contains classified information. It is not your property."  
"Why do you people have to choose the hard way?"  
He fired twice, walked over to her and picked up the suitcase and her car keys. The stranger then got into the black SUV which had two bullet holes in the passenger window and drove off.

_London, England._

Phoenix Watson sat down at a bench overlooking the Thames, next to a young Caribbean man.  
"Fidel," Phoenix informed the police officer, "I have heard reports that spies around the world are being murdered by an unknown threat. I want you to join forces with an expert who I believe knows quite a bit about what we face."  
"Sir, are you sure about this?"  
"Yes, Fidel. We need to end this as soon as possible."  
"Okay. What's the name of the expert you're bringing in?"  
Phoenix smiled happily.  
"Camille Bordey."

_Paris, France._

Camille Bordey sat down in her seat onboard flight 4916 and fastened her seatbelt. She had received a message from London two days ago and had been puzzled by it: why did London want her? She wasn't a spy: she was just a police officer who had spent time on a Caribbean island and now did undercover jobs every few days.  
Whatever the reason was, she was needed. That was important.

The plane left the airport and rapidly shot up into the air. For this flight, Camille had brought a book to read and a newspaper to flick through.  
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," declared the loudspeaker, "and welcome to this Parisian Air flight to London Heathrow. In approximately half an hour, we'll be going round with the refreshments trolley, where you can buy a wide range of beverages and consumable goods."  
The announcement then concluded, allowing Camille to have a conversation with the old man next to her.  
"What'll you be doing in London?" he asked her, putting down his copy of _The Sunday Times_.  
"I'll be there for business." she answered cryptically.  
"That's funny, Ms Bordey," he replied, taking out a sharp knife, "because I'll be there for business as well."  
She undid her seatbelt and backed away, into the aisle, trying to get away from the knife-wielding stranger.  
"Madam, may I ask what you're doing?" enquired an air steward, before noticing the knife and screaming.

Camille fled up the aisle towards the front of the plane and opened the door to the cockpit, where both pilots had been shot. The shooter was hidden behind the door and, when she closed the door, the shooter emerged from his hiding place.  
"Camille Bordey, get away from the controls." he demanded, shooing her with his gun.  
In a matter of moments, Camille spun round and punched the pistol out of his hands, before slamming him against the wall and shooting him twice with his own gun. Rapidly spinning back round, she sat down in the pilot's seat and frantically pulled the joystick in front of her upwards, lifting the plane sharply up.  
She sighed with relief.

Four hours later, Camille was on a boat, heading for MI6 headquarters. Fidel was sat next to her, with an awkward look on his face.  
"You look like you've had a tough day." he said, noticing her tired eyes.  
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." she replied.  
"So you apparently know about the global assassinations?"  
"I've heard a lot about them. What do you know so far?"  
"I know that spies around the world are being assassinated by an unknown stranger. All I have is three words."  
"What three words?"  
"The Black Ring."  
Those words made Camille shudder. She remembered her night hiding in the fridge and also all the fallout she had had to clear up after that incident. Initally she knew she would probably never encounter the Black Ring again. Now, however, her opinion was different.  
"I know that group well. They always survive, no matter how hard I try."  
"Well we'll make sure that this time round they are ended."

Inside MI6 headquarters, Camille and Fidel were led to the Director's office: the Director was a short middle-aged man, with a bit of stubble forming on his chin and a bald head. Like his fellow agents, he wore a smart black suit, except with a bowtie instead of a tie.  
"Camille, Fidel, " he explained, "you two have been brought together as you are two of the world's best experts on tackling gangs, Camille especially so. I understand you have had experience with the Black Ring before as well, Fidel: would you care to elaborate?"  
"Certainly sir," Fidel said, "I was in Monaco a few months ago and I came across a bizarre message scrawled in black ink in a holy book I found in the Kham'ampur."  
"What did the message say?" Camille wondered.  
"It was one word: tymina. I went on the hunt for clues but I got nowhere. The last lead I had was a private island out in the Caribbean, a few miles away from Saint Marie."  
"Well that does add up," the Director realised, before elaborating, "one of our agents was assassinated in Reykjavik after taking out Eddie Brock."  
Suddenly, two bullets sliced through the window and hit Fidel and the Director in the chest. Blood spilled out of their chests and they collapsed to the floor, dead. A tear dribbled down Camille's frightened face.  
Immediately afterwards, several armed guards burst in, pistols aimed at Camille.  
"Camille Bordey, you are under arrest for the murder of George Tyson and Fidel Best. If you attempt any hostile actions, we will shoot you down." their leader said.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	4. Episode 4 - Shoot to Kill

**Shoot to Kill**

**Featuring Camille Bordey**

Inside MI6 headquarters, Camille and Fidel were led to the Director's office: the Director was a short middle-aged man, with a bit of stubble forming on his chin and a bald head. Like his fellow agents, he wore a smart black suit, except with a bowtie instead of a tie.  
"Camille, Fidel, " he explained, "you two have been brought together as you are two of the world's best experts on tackling gangs, Camille especially so. I understand you have had experience with the Black Ring before as well, Fidel: would you care to elaborate?"  
"Certainly sir," Fidel said, "I was in Monaco a few months ago and I came across a bizarre message scrawled in black ink in a holy book I found in the Kham'ampur."  
"What did the message say?" Camille wondered.  
"It was one word: tymina. I went on the hunt for clues but I got nowhere. The last lead I had was a private island out in the Caribbean, a few miles away from Saint Marie."  
"Well that does add up," the Director realised, before elaborating, "one of our agents was assassinated in Reykjavik after taking out Eddie Brock."  
Suddenly, two bullets sliced through the window and hit Fidel and the Director in the chest. Blood spilled out of their chests and they collapsed to the floor, dead. A tear dribbled down Camille's frightened face.  
Suddenly, several armed guards burst in, pistols aimed at Camille.  
"Camille Bordey, you are under arrest for the murder of George Tyson and Fidel Best. If you attempt any hostile actions, we will shoot you down." their leader said.

_4 Months Later..._

Edmund Travers was a rich man. He was a rich yet unemployed secret agent who had retired to the countryside ever since agents started to get shot. The last he had heard of the crisis was that someone had been arrested for the murder of George Tyson and one other guy, but they had got away.  
To try and put his mind to rest, he had decided to take a 7 hour flight to the luxurious Caribbean island of Saint Marie. And because he was generous, he was going to take his mother with him.  
He had just sat down in his seat when he heard a voice from next to him ask, "Are you Edmund Travers?"  
"Yes, I am." he answered, wondering how someone knew him. His answer came a nanosecond later when he saw who had just spoken to him: the voice he had heard belonged to a pretty Caribbean woman in a black dress who had long curly black hair and a kind yet enigmatic face.  
"I may need your help."  
"With what exactly?"  
"Do you want to take down the person who has been assassinating secret agents across the globe?"  
He nodded, desperate to get away from his embarrassing mother.  
"Then stick with me when we arrive." she insisted, as the plane took off, heading for Saint Marie.

The flight, unlike the last time Camille had been on a plane, had gone very well. They touched down only five hours later and, as per her request, Edmund stuck with Camille as they casually emerged from the airport. Once they were outside, the pair of them got into an old Fiat Panda and drove off, heading towards the port.  
"Are you who I think you are?" Edmund asked her, as she sped past an old beige Land Rover which had a relatively young ginger haired Englishman at the wheel.  
"And who do you think I am?" she replied.  
"I think you're Camille Bordey."  
"Then you're correct."  
"You were arrested in London a few months ago."  
"I escaped."  
"So what are you planning now then? How are we going to take the person behind all of the global murders down?"  
"I've been hunting for the last four months. Seeking trails and clues. An old friend of mine showed me that not every source of information used doesn't necessarily have to be legal."  
"And what have you found?"  
"That a criminal known as X has recently acquired an island nearby which has nuclear missiles and more weapons than an army base. And I think I know where he plans to target those missiles."  
"Where?"  
"Saint Marie."

They got out at the port and noticed that X was standing by an expensive-looking yacht.  
"Oh and I arranged to meet X so that he could take us to his island." she added, as they walked over to him: he was wearing a white linen shirt and a pair of dark sunglasses, to hide his bruised eyes from public view.  
"Camille, so nice to see you again after so long," X greeted, before noticing the additional guest and wondering, "And who might this be?"  
"This is Edmund Travers. I brought him along as well, in case things go wrong."  
"Excellent. I like a mercenary. Shall we head for my island then?"

The yacht arrived at the island an hour later and X escorted Camille and Edmund to the weapons room, where he took an old flintlock pistol, strapped Edmund to a pillar and placed a bottle of tequila on Edmund's head.  
"Camille, shoot the bottle, " X proposed, "or Edmund dies."  
The two armed guards on either side of X aimed their machine guns at Camille. She took the flintlock and aimed it at the tequila bottle. Closing her eyes and hoping that it wouldn't go wrong, she fired. A second later, she heard a smashing sound and opened her eyes to see Edmund, as scared as can be, with the smashed bottle of tequila next to him. She winked at him, turned and punched X in the face. The two guards drew closer but were shot down in a matter of moments.  
Camille then ran out of the room, leaving Edmund to struggle out of his bonds.

An alarm began to blare just as Camille was wondering where the main control room was. She examined her surroundings closely and noticed a large beach about two kilometres away. At the top of the beach was a large grey building with a window overlooking the beach.  
She sprinted towards the building.

X, meanwhile, had recovered from his blow to the face and had armed himself with an old elephant gun, as he hunted Camille down. He had known that it was a risk bringing her to his private island, but had decided to go ahead with it anyway.  
And then he realised exactly where she was going to go.

Inside the missile control centre, Camille sat down at the computer pad and read through the types of missiles stored under the beach: there were several nuclear missiles and forty standard rockets. Thinking fast, she spotted a boat on the beach, activated the nuclear missiles to be fired into space and activated the normal missiles to fire at the island. Giving herself a five minute countdown, she ran out of the building and straight for the boat.  
"Camille!" Edmund called to her as they reunited by the boat, "Did you save the world?"  
"Hopefully!" she answered back, as the pair of them clambered onto the speedboat and they set off at a rapid pace, far away from the island.

X had just reached the control room when the countdown had reached thirty seconds. The nuclear missiles had been set to be fired into space whilst the normal missiles would come crashing down on the island.  
Twenty... Nineteen...  
He considered his options. There were no off-switches. No escape routes. And Camille and her idiotic friend had stolen his favourite speedboat.  
Ten...  
Nine...  
Eight...  
Seven...  
Six...  
Five...  
Four...  
Three...  
Two...  
One...  
Zero.

The beach fell apart as seven nuclear missiles whooshed upwards into the vast depths of space. Then, immediately afterwards, forty rockets whooshed upwards and fell back down again, blowing up the island with a loud BANG.

Camille and Edmund watched from the boat as X's island burst into yellow flame.  
"Thank goodness he's gone." Camille remarked, as the pair of them drove away, back to Saint Marie.

**THE END**


End file.
